Fixated
by Meg Moore
Summary: 'They go straight back to her apartment after her suspension is handed down...' An After the Storm post-ep.


They go straight back to her apartment after her suspension is handed down, of course. There's no risk of running into any redheads there, not to mention there's a bed that hasn't seen any action since long before she and Josh broke up. He never even stepped foot into her place again after she returned from LA last spring.

Walking out of the precinct and into the stunningly gorgeous May afternoon, Kate looks to Castle standing beside her; he's close, but respectfully not touching her in front of her workplace. She regards him with dark, suggestive eyes and simply says, "My place?" He smiles, wide and uninhibited, and just nods his assent. He quickly calls home, checking in dutifully with his mother and daughter, tells them all is well and that he'll be home later that evening. She smiles expectantly at his words; she knows _exactly_ where and how the rest of his afternoon will be spent.

The cab ride is mercifully short, and the elevator is actually waiting in the lobby for once. When the doors finally slide closed on them, he leisurely runs one hand down the outside of her thigh, then lifts her knee to wrap snugly around his waist. He presses the weight of his body against her, kissing her deeply and allowing her to feel just how desperately he wants her with the insistent press of his tongue in her mouth and his hardening length against her center. She grins mischievously when they eventually have to break apart to breathe, suddenly realizing exactly what she wants to do to him when they reach the privacy of her apartment. Something she hadn't had the chance to do during their three rounds that first night; something that she's absolutely salivating just thinking about.

Kate takes him by the hand when the elevator doors part again, weaving their fingers together almost innocently, and walks him from the elevator to her door. She keeps looking back at him, a come-hither smile on her face and her lip drawn between her teeth. Her bottomless eyes undoubtedly betray her, giving away every last terrible, wonderful thing that she wants to do to him, and that she wants done to her.

When the door finally closes and locks behind them, Castle stands at her back, pulling her coat from her frame, apparently determined to rid her of any clothing as fast as humanly possible when he follows by lifting her shirt over her head and shucking her bra just as quickly. He reaches up under her arms to encircle her, each large hand palming a breast, kneading the soft flesh and pinching her nipples roughly, bringing each to a painfully aroused peak and drawing a low, wanton moan from her throat. She could cry with pleasure when he suddenly gentles his touch, just his fingertips running feather-light over the puckered skin now, her own arms reaching up to run her fingers into his hair, pulling his mouth down to meet hers in a searing sideways kiss.

He spins her in his embrace then and pushes her into the door with his weight once again, the fingers of one hand continuing to tease her breast mercilessly, the others tangling in the silky hair at the nape of her neck. He uses that leverage to draw her mouth to his, slant his lips across hers just so, their mouths fused and their tongues tasting deeply. She steadily works the buttons of his shirt open, pulling the tails from his pants and sliding one hand down his abdomen to his pelvis, his erection straining brutally against the confines of the material. He sighs her name into her mouth at her bold touch, finally unafraid of letting her know exactly what she does to him.

She grasps his waist then and switches their positions, leaving him leaning against the door and arching an eyebrow at her in question. She answers him with her body, her lips brushing his over and over with kisses meant to drive him out of his mind, her fingers shamelessly caressing his cock through the layers of fabric. Her tongue and her hands are working in tandem to make him senseless and desperate for her, and if their shared smiles are any indication, it's working.

Oh, she is _definitely_ looking forward to this.

She's still in her heels so their eyes are almost level, hers never leaving his as she begins to unbuckle his belt and murmurs to him in a soft, honeyed voice, "Here, let me." His eyes widen slightly with the implication of her words, and then there's no doubt in his mind as to what she has planned for him when she promptly drops to her knees before him, her nimble hands continuing to divest him of his clothing. He soon stands before her, his shirt open and hanging from his shoulders, his pants and underwear around his ankles. His cock is displayed prominently for her perusal, already thick and dripping for her, _because_ of her. She stares at it for a moment and licks her lips before raising her eyes to meet his again, loving the wildness she sees there. She knows that _he_ knows exactly what she wants, and she's relieved when he doesn't try to stop her in some misguided attempt to be chivalrous or polite.

Fuck polite. She's so completely done with polite and she sure as hell hopes he is too.

She grasps his shaft at the base and gives him a few leisurely strokes, watching with pure satisfaction as his mouth falls open on a gasp, his eyes intently following her every move. She touches him slowly and perfectly and he looks like he's silently praying to whatever deity who might be listening that she never, ever, _ever_ stops doing this to him (and she hasn't even put her mouth on him yet). She continues to pump his dick slowly as she leans forward, her lips brushing across the tender flesh of his pelvis, inhaling the scent of his soap and the musky, male scent of his groin. She places one kiss, and then another on the soft skin just inside his right hipbone, the same spot he worshipped on her body that first night upon discovering her tattoo there.

It's a simple little thing, really. A small ebony silhouette of a bird with its wings spread in flight, it sits low enough on her belly below her hip to be hidden by most bathing suits. She remembers his gasp of pure delight when he found it; the smile that had adorned his face when he raised his eyes knowingly to hers that night was worth the years of waiting for him, for _them_. He had kissed the inked skin reverently, sampling it with that curious tongue of his before he dipped his head between her legs to take his first taste of her sex that night. She can feel the trickle of arousal soaking her panties at the memory of kissing her flavor from his lips, but not before he had made her come twice. And now, she wants to return the favor.

She's suddenly impatient then, desperate to taste him and feel the weight of him on her tongue. She pulls her head back, her hand gripping his rigid cock at the base, the generous drop of fluid on the tip only enticing her further. She flicks her tongue over the bead, his taste spreading through her senses and she wants…no, _needs_ more of it, _now_, so she engulfs the head in her sinful mouth, sucking lightly. Her eyes bore into his, letting him see just how much she gets off on giving him pleasure, this act almost as satisfying to her as receiving. He in turn appears to be thoroughly mesmerized by the sight of his pulsing shaft disappearing between her slick, swollen lips, apparently robbed of all coherent speech.

_Neat trick_, she muses. _I'll have to remember this the next time he won't shut up._

She slides her fist up and down the length of him while she continues to suck hungrily, taking a moment to tease him, blinking her lush lashes at him coyly while her tongue lazily licks the circumference of the head. He disappears into her mouth again, her eyes closing as she takes him deeper in her mouth now, humming happily as he nudges further and further back into her throat.

The hand resting on his thigh feels the tension radiating off of the muscle there, and she's suddenly aware of the control he's exerting to keep himself in check. She looks to his eyes again and sees it, the effect that the last few days (last few years, really) have had on both of them, but there's more there; this is so much more than just a fantasy realized for both of them, more than a conquest or a notch on the bedpost.

_I just want you_.

She had meant it. She still does. She can't envision a time when she won't. There is literally nothing in her life now that's more important than this, _them_, and she's going to grab this future with him with both hands and never let it go. But first, she's going to do this. She's going to love him with her mouth and hands make hers be the only name that ever falls from his lips. The time for teasing is over.

She drags her lips back up his cock, licking and kissing it leisurely, and this time when she takes him back into her mouth, she nudges the head beyond her gag reflex as she's swallowing rapidly, the last of his shaft enclosed in the indescribably tight wet warmth. His eyes widen as he glides fully into her mouth; the sight of her lips stretched tightly around his dick and her nose buried in his pubic hair has him gripping the molding around the door in an effort to maintain control. His knuckles blanch when she takes his balls into one hand, squeezing and rolling his sack while her throat undulates around him.

"Ooooohhh fuck. Kate."

It shimmies through her, the desperate sound of her name in his mouth while his cock is completely in hers. It sounds different, the way he says her name now. It's like he's saying it again for the first time in his life, worshipping each vowel and consonant, discovering just how amazing she is all over again.

She backs off of his shaft to take a breath but never releases him completely before he's sliding past her plump lips again, the smooth, blunt head deep in her throat now. She can feel the rolling motion of her muscles as she swallows around his girth, her tongue ceaselessly rubbing the underside, before she inches back once again to breathe and suck the salty fluid dripping uncontrollably from his tip. She swallows the flavor of him and feels her underwear bathed in a new gush of arousal. She can actually smell herself now, a heady combination of their sexes filling her senses and making her lightheaded with it.

She moves steadily now, his length gliding effortlessly between her glistening lips, his cock buried deep in the back of her throat. She pulls back until only his engorged head remains on her tongue, but she swiftly slides his entire shaft into her mouth again, the weight of him pressing her tongue down and forcing her throat open. He gently threads his fingers into her hair then, the tips brushing her scalp, helping to guide her, pulling her in and out, again and again, and she relishes the feeling of him taking some control and fucking her mouth like she knows he wants to. She's embarrassingly turned on now, the tight denim covering the inside of her thighs soaked with her own arousal and the ache in her core becoming borderline unbearable. But she can't bring herself to care, because she knows he'll love it, that he'll lick her clean and then fuck her senseless and she can hardly wait.

First though, she wants to finish what she started. She wants to make him come undone with just her mouth and tongue and hands.

She can tell that he's getting close now; his breathing is speeding up and he's mildly incoherent, chanting words that sound like a litany of _Kate_ and _oh god_ and _fuck yes _over and over and over again. His eyes had drifted shut a while ago, after watching her slide his cock from her mouth at one point, a long string of saliva and pre-cum connecting his tip with her swollen bottom lip. She had looked up at him through her smoky eyelashes, a filthy little smile on her face, and leaned forward so her wicked tongue could lap at his head before hungrily sucking his length deep into her mouth again and holding him there. His head fell back against the door then, the visual stimulation of watching her blow him like a pro obviously too much for him to handle in tandem with the sensations she was drawing from him.

After starting slowly he finally picks up speed, thrusting into her willing mouth a little more forcefully now, and she's pretty sure he knows how much she loves what he's doing when she moans long and low around his length. She can tell that he's rapidly losing control, lost in the sensation of her lips wrapped tightly around his dick, and when he says "Kate?" in a voice that's rough and slightly unhinged, she knows instinctually what he's asking. She answers him by sliding one hand up the back of his thigh and gripping his ass, pulling him toward her and helping him to bury his cock deeper and deeper into her mouth.

When his orgasm overtakes him she can hear him growl _oh my god Kate_, his fingers gripping her skull so he can thrust his cock into her throat one last time. She swallows relentlessly around the head while his hot, salty release spills across her tongue, his flavor dark and delicious and already she's addicted. His length slides in and out of her reddened lips over and over as she savors the fluid that jets forcefully from him. He's chanting _katekatekate _in supplication, each wave of pleasure that wracks his body resulting in another spurt into her mouth.

She swallows every last drop that pours from him as she watches his face contort in ecstasy, and nothing – _nothing_ – is more gratifying than seeing the effect she has on him, the power she can exert over his pleasure, bringing him to this kind of climax, the kind that renders him weak and speechless and completely under her spell. As he softens in her mouth, she sucks gently, backing off to lick the last drops of his sticky cum from the head of his cock.

She releases him and grasps his hips while she waits for him to return to earth, his trip into the stratosphere just now ending. When he finally blinks his eyes open, they're glazed and glassy, and after he takes a moment to gather his wits, he looks down into her face with awe and astonishment. She's simply smiling back, looking at him with all the wonder and love that she feels at this moment.

He quickly pulls her up and into his arms, his lips sealed to hers and he's surging into her mouth to gather some of his own taste still coating her tongue. Her arms slink around his neck, their naked chests plastered together as they kiss each other deeply, slowly. He's remarkably gentle with her now, one hand splayed at the small of her back to hold her body tightly against his, the other pushing her unruly, sex-mussed hair behind one ear. He cups her cheek lightly as they pull back from the kiss, but they don't go far, leaning toward each other again to rest their damp foreheads together.

They're both still panting and just staring at one another when she finally asks, "You okay?"

His eyes go wide at her question and he laughs out loud, a bright, happy sounding thing.

"You're kidding, right? I am so much better than okay. My God Kate, that was…" He trails off as he shakes his head and searches for a word to describe her exquisite ministrations.

She grins at his orgasm-induced stupor, all at once smug and satisfied with herself, and she just has to tease the writer about his lack of words. "What's the matter, Castle? Cat got your tongue?" She sounds way too amused.

He shakes his head again. "No. No. That was amazing. Stupendous. Life-altering. Mind-blowing."

They both laugh then at his outpouring of words. "There's my wordsmith," she murmurs softly against his lips, and words that are meant to sound light and teasing end up carrying far more meaning at that moment than she could have anticipated. He really _is_ a wordsmith, and he really is _hers_, all hers. That giddy, girlie part of her long thought dormant flares to life within her chest again, just like it did that first night with him (and at least a thousand other times in the four years preceding), the fluttering butterflies rising up in her belly and she does nothing to tamp them down. She doesn't want to anymore.

With crystal clarity, she suddenly understands his desire to keep this, _them_, private for as long as they can manage it. Of course she doesn't want his position at the precinct threatened by the change in their relationship status, but it's more than that. She finds that she just wants to revel in it, in him. This thing between them, it's still so new. Well, not _new_. Four years of every possible test to their relationship, life and death situations, the Ginas and the Joshes and misunderstandings galore, only to come out intact on the other side? No, the bond they already share belies any newness. But this? Getting to co-exist as a couple? No longer a _you and I_, but an _us?_ _That's_ new, and that's how she wants to spend the entirety of her month-long suspension. She knows it's only a few days before Alexis and Martha leave for their trip to Europe, and after that they're planning to spend every waking moment together, making up for four years of lost time in whatever way they see fit. She knows that their private bubble of bliss will pop eventually – of course, it must – but not until they've had a chance to explore everything that this shift in their relationship means to them.

They finally turn serious again, and he brushes his lips to hers, soft, sweet kisses that quickly turn deep and demanding. His cock is already beginning to harden against her again, the insistent press of him against her pelvis reminding her about the ache deep within her belly at not having achieved her own release yet. She presses her thighs together, shifting back and forth a bit to relieve some of the tension, when suddenly one of his wide, warm hands cups her firmly between the legs. She gasps, a little weak in the knees from the movement of his adventurous fingers against her core, and he can only hiss into her mouth when he makes contact with the soaked fabric, her arousal unmistakable.

It only takes moments for him to rid them both of their remaining clothes, and when she turns and bends to brace herself against her front door, he knows exactly what she needs, just like he always does. He positions the head of his thick cock at her entrance and effortlessly glides deep into her wetness from behind, his hips finally meeting the curve of her perfect ass as he fills her completely. He pauses for a moment when a dark moan escapes her lips, the sensation of being stretched so tautly around his shaft almost too much. But then he grasps her hips and begins the slow slide out and back in again, over and over, fucking her senseless, and it's more perfect than she could have ever imagined.

The bed can wait for the next round.

* * *

><p><em>Prompt from the 2014 Summer Hiatus Kink Meme: <em>_the first time Beckett gives Castle a blowjob._

_A/N: *AHEM* Well, this was a first for me. I do hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it, and as always, if you feel so inclined, I'd love to hear your thoughts about it._

_I want to extend a heartfelt thank you to M and B for being the best betas and cheerleaders a girl could ever want, but more importantly, for being good friends and terrible influences. I owe you both an entire vineyard of wine!_


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